Superman Ain't Got Nothing On Me
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: They're going to spend a lifetime worrying about each other because they're committed to forever. Aka four times Donna's stubbornness leaves Harvey worried and one time his own has the same effect. (darvey established)
1. I

**Superman Ain't Got Nothing On Me**

**Category: **Darvey Established/Romance/Hurt Comfort

**Summary: **They're going to spend a lifetime worrying about each other which is normal considering they're committed to forever. Aka four times Donna's stubbornness leaves Harvey reeling and one time his own has the same effect. (darvey established)

**AN: **I've been severely lacking in the muse department lately but protective Harvey is always my goto haha. I just needed to put some words down so here they are :P It's five chapters in total. I was going to make it a one-shot but it was taking too long and I was worried it was going to end up in my seemingly endless folder of drafts XD

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I.

He checks his watch for the hundredth time, the storm hammering outside driving the whiskey in his hand up with a sharp movement.

Donna should be here by now.

It's been nearly an hour since she called to say she was getting a cab (37 minutes, to be exact).

He's assuming traffic is heavy due to the rain but each tick of the second-hand glares back at him, mocking the rational explanation. He should have _insisted_ on having Ray pick her up. There isn't a driver in the city he trusts more but her stubborn refusal won out over his hesitant concern. True, they would have been dragging the man out in a blizzard but he's certain Ray would have jumped in the car, engine revving.

She has that influence over people, drawing them in with her warm open heart, and he's seen it even more now they're dating.

The young brunette who gives her a free coffee every Tuesday, the cranky rounded woman at the dry-cleaners who -in spite of giving his own secretary shit- rushes Donna's dresses at no extra charge... and last week he met her building maintenance manager, _Rod_. The burly guy brings up her mail on a Friday because it's 'no hassle' just an extra three floors out of his way. It's like that almost everywhere they go and he rummages through the mental snapshots he's been sneaking, a small smile stirring around the corners of his worry. He's known Donna for 13 years but never like _this, _not as his girlfriend, and a warmth spreads through him until another minute steals the appreciation from his lips.

For all her endearing qualities, the hell if she isn't goddamn stubborn.

A clap of thunder startles the drink in his grasp, amber liquid splashing over the sides, and he sets it down with a ragged sigh. She should be here; _safe_, wrapped up with him on the sofa not out in _The Poseidon Adventure_, and paranoia fuels the reach toward his phone.

No messages.

No missed calls.

Hardly a shock given the screen's been dark since she hung up and he's debating whether to call again when the sudden jingle of keys sends a jolt of relief rushing through him. He plays it off quickly, knowing she'll tease him mercilessly for overrating, and pushes up kicking his feet toward the kitchen. "I was starting think you'd forgotten the address-" he throws out jokingly, hearing a groan followed by two soft thuds as her shoes hit the floor. By the sound of things she's in need of a drink herself and his hand hesitates at the overhead cabinet. "Whiskey or wine?"

A choked '_whiskey_' meets his ears and amusement twitches his mouth. If she's asking for the hard stuff over Chardonnay it must have been bad out there and he pulls down a second glass, tipping the bottle so there's a decent amount of alcohol to warm her up.

She rounds the corner a moment later, dripping with water and stopping so she doesn't traipse the mess across his polished floorboards. Thanks to a burst pipe re-routing the traffic her driver had warned it could take up to an hour before they moved and she'd decided to chance the harsh conditions. It had seemed like a good until the cold had seeped in, unrelenting and bitter as she'd carried herself closer to his apartment.

She can barely feel her fingers or toes anymore, stammering over the request for a towel.

He lifts his gaze at the stutter his relief vanishing at the drenched state of her. She's soaked though, dark hair plastered against pale skin and trembling beneath several layers of wet clothing.

"_Jesus,_" he exclaims, dropping their tumblers with a heavy clink, "what the hell did you do, _walk_ the eight blocks?"

She winces, unable to control the shivers racking her body now she's inside the warmth of his condo. All she'd wanted to do was get home to him and she bites her lip sheepishly, dipping her head away from his advance. "F... four."

The answer doesn't do anything to stem his anger, irritation tangling around his concern. She should have waited it out, in the very least _called_ so he could have met her halfway but he tries to reign in the knee-jerk reaction. He can scold the recklessness later. Right now she needs to get dry and he cups his fingers over her shoulders with a gentle tug, "come on... before you catch pneumonia."

She doesn't follow, her stocking clad toes digging in and squelching the water already pooled by her feet. It may seem stupid but she's utterly exhausted and doesn't want to have to clean up the mess later. Though she struggles to relay the concern through her numb lips, "I should... d... dry off first."

Her gaze is entirely serious, fraught with worry, and god help him- her stubbornness is going to be the death of him one day.

"Donna... _shower_, now-" he orders not giving a damn about the apartment but knowing her like he does, she'll freeze to death arguing about it and he winds behind her back placing his palm against her damp coat.

She relents, only because he clearly isn't going to take no for an answer, and moves as quickly as her body will allow into his en-suite, huddling by the sink as he turns on the spray. Before she can even think about undressing herself he's already started the task, peeling off the icy layers one by one and moving his hands across her body leaving fire-like sparks in their wake. It's not enough to banish the cold but it stirs something inside her and she stops him, her movements uncoordinated and fumbling as she tries to pull up his sweater.

He gets it, a small smirk breaking his composure as he takes over removing the item along with the rest of his clothes. He really shouldn't be indulging her but the last fleeting waves of annoyance disappear as he wraps around her naked frame, ushering them into the steaming shower. She stops shivering almost immediately, her pale freckled skin turning bright red under the heat and he nestles his mouth against the crook of her neck with a small sigh, "_better_?"

She leans her head back tiredly -all the answer she can apparently muster- and he chuckles softly, accepting the invitation and trailing his lips down while futilely whispering that next time she should try having more patience. She won't, he knows that... because as much as he wishes she'd stayed in the damn cab, this is exactly where she's supped to be.

At home, with him- riding the storm out together.


	2. II

II.

She wobbles unsteadily, her fingers bracing against the back of the chair as she rights herself, glancing up at the two lights hanging directly above her. It's been annoying her for days, the fact only one of the bulbs blew (not both) which was seeming enough of a reason for Harvey to ignore the problem. That and the fact his condo has an abundance of windows, lamps and dimmers; a typical bachelor pad.

Or at least it was.

The migration of her things over the passed few months has turned it more homely, from her favorite mug to the cushions now adorning his couch, and even though they're not officially living together she hasn't seen the inside of her apartment for weeks... not that either of them are complaining. It's a conversation on the horizon but like most things in their relationship the natural gravitation of how things are progressing often surpasses the need for words. If they're spoken it's usually in the quiet hours of the evening or when they find themselves groggily entwined in the mornings but there's always a softness present that resonates with her; they might not have an _exact_ plan but forever is all the guidance they need.

The thought spills a smile across her lips and she straightens slowly, her fingers wrapping around the extinguished bulb and twisting it loose. It frees easily and she curls her toes into the soft leather of Harvey's chair, grounding herself as her gaze roams the bookcase. Initially it's to pursue his collection but she's distracted by the dust starting to settle and a crease tightens her brown. Early on, back when they were at the DA's office, she'd asked about organizing a cleaner but he'd dismissed the suggestion deeming it wasn't necessary. When she'd first laid on his place she'd understood why. To describe his condo as sparse would have been an understatement but that's not the case anymore and she dips her arm, replacing the light in her hand and wondering if she should bring it up again or in the very least ask if he has a feather duster hidden away anywhere.

She mulls over the thought, hearing the front door unlock and his voice sounds almost immediately, calling out like she mightn't be there for some reason. After 13 years the cautiousness is still a habit but she's quick to reassure him. "In _here..._" the words leave her mouth, her hand stretching as soft footsteps carry him around the corner.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?"

He all but snaps the question, his chest tightening as the chair swivels under her weight and he's beneath her in less than three strides gripping the arm to keep it steady. She doesn't seem phased in the slightest, reaching up on her toes again and he flinches trying to stem the anxiety rushing through him. "Donna, leave it."

She misses the note of panic in his voice, biting her cheek as she fiddles with the pins.

He's on the verge of forcibly pulling her down when he hears the soft click, her fingers landing on his shoulder to steady herself and he guides her keeping calm until both of her feet are planted firmly on the ground. "You couldn't have waited five goddamn minutes?" He asks, leaning and digging in his frustration into the offending piece of furniture.

A frown tugs her mouth confused by the reaction. She was just trying to help, his anger coming completely out of the blue, and the only thing she can think of is that something must have happened to put him on edge, maybe an incident at the office or a fight with his mother "Harvey... did something happen?"

He stares incredulously at the concern turning her lips. She really has no idea. "The chair Donna-" he breathes out his exasperation in a huff. Maybe she wasn't scaling a building or climbing Everest but she still could've been hurt, the images flashing through his mind in a quick succession.

His gaze darts away from her and she chews on her lip, the worry she felt slipping into something closer to amusement. He's overracting but is also genuinely upset and it's sweet, urging her to take a step. He straightens, his gaze shifting back, and she smoothes her fingers over his wide lapels. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't, I... _that's_-" he stumbles, heat prickling the back of his neck as her gentle touch laps over his anxiety. He might have come on a bit too strong but she means everything to him, and he blinks, his pulse steadying in time with her lazy strokes. "I tanked a case, huge client... we're both getting fired."

She chuckles as he finds his voice with the lie, her hands sinking down to wrap around his waist. She does feel slightly guilty but thanks to yoga she has excellent balance, among a range of other flexible talents. "So what your saying is we don't have to be up early for work tomorrow?"

He tacks onto the train of thought, his embarrassment fading at her seductive sway and he almost wishes they _were_ being fired- relishing the idea of several interrupted hours they could be filling.

"I'm saying we can be late..." he steals her smirk beneath his lips, steering her gently out of the study and towards the bedroom with one clear intention driving him.

They're _definitely_ going to be sleeping in come the morning.


	3. III

III

He rarely ventures into the partner's kitchen, the need to do so mostly redundant. He has bottled water in his office, buys his coffee on the way in and always goes out for lunch. Even if he wanted to it's become Louis' domain, stacked to the brim with god knows what sort of shit, but his feet lead him there in search of Donna. The paper's in his hand are a pretense and when he enters the small space, finding her bent down over shards of broken glass, he abandons them on the counter, concern coiling in his throat. "Donna?"

She glances up, her finger skimming a particularity sharp edge and she bites out a curse swallowing the lump in her throat, "Harvey, now isn't a good-"

"_Hey_." He stops her, his voice soft as he picks up on the slight tremble to her movements. He's scared she's going to hurt herself and crouches down to carefully take the pieces balanced in her palm. She relents with a sigh and he quickly cleans up the rest, binning the glass and offering his arm to help her up.

She stands, sucking on the trickle of blood at her fingertip. "It's stupid."

His chest expands, head titling to the side as he takes her in. She's upset and no reason causing that could possibly be stupid but Donna Paulsen has two sets of standards; ones for the people she cares about and those she stubbornly places on herself.

"What happened?" He asks gently, turning on the faucet and guiding her to the sink.

She follows, wincing as she places the cut under the stream of water. "Rachel and I got into a fight."

Her gaze darts away from him and he knows there's more to it but keeps quiet, leaning for the roll of paper towels and tearing a piece off.

She turns off the tap in response, dragging her hand towards him with an involuntary shudder. She hates being at odds with Rachel and the few times it's happened over the years she's always felt like shit afterwards but this time was different. It was bad and her lip quivers as the truth slips out. "She brought up Robert."

The former partner's name sets off his own twinge of guilt and truthfully, he's embarrassed to admit he hadn't even considered how the man falling on his sword might affect things between the two women. It's been months and Donna hasn't mentioned anything, not even the smallest whisper of tension, but he knows her well enough by now to realize that doesn't mean it hasn't been there, just that she's been shielding him from it. "Mike didn't mention anything."

"Our friendship's aren't mutually exclusive." There's a hint of annoyance snapped beneath the remark but it wavers when he takes her hand, dabbing it dry with the toweling. He's only trying to help and a quick apology builds replacing her frustration. "I'm sorry... it's _just-_" she pauses, trying to find the right words but he reaches them first without any hesitation.

"You feel bad."

He knows because right or wrong, he feels it too. The only difference is he's not taking the heat because his best friend is one person removed from the situation. That doesn't mean he wouldn't like to resolve any misgivings and clear the air, anything to lessen the weight resting on her shoulders. "Why don't we take a long weekend, fly up there."

She isn't expecting the suggestion, his spontaneity usually reserved for solutions closer to home but she knows why he's offering and loves him even more for it. It might be awkward at first but seeing Rachel in person would curb the recent tension in their calls and a small smile touches her mouth. "Really?"

He wads the paper in his hand, gingerly pushing the hair back from her face. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for her and he slides his thumb across her cheek with a nod. "I'll go clear it with Louis now."

Her skin warms under his touch and she leans into his palm, already feeling better about the situation. He has that effect, making everything seem like it's going to be okay. He might not be superman but he comes pretty damn close at times. "_Right_, now?"

She hooks up an eyebrow and his fingers drop to her waist, keeping the distance between them but intrigued by her soft gaze. For the most part they keep things professional in the office professional but there has been the odd occasion they've slipped up. Usually right after she gives him the look she's currently wearing. "Are you suggesting we play hooky, Paulsen?"

"What if I am?" She challenges, lightly toying with his hand below the break of the window.

This time he does move leaning to brush his mouth close to ear. "Rooftop or file-room?" She bites her lip, indicating neither and pulse skips beneath her feather light touch. "You're not serious?"

She is, knowing the location is playing right into one of his fantasies and she confirms it with a wicked grin, "five minutes."

He swallows hard as she saunters to the door, clearing his throat and pulling at the tightness around his neck. This is _definitely_ more alone the lines of spontaneity he's into but now he's even more glad he suggested the trip. After what he and Donna about to do, he's going to want to tease Mike with details in person.

Otherwise the kid's never going to believe it.


	4. IV

IV.

She wakes to an incessant prodding in her side, the irritating poke drawing a slurred protest from her lips but it doesn't stop. It just changes to a light pull at her shoulder as Harvey's voice fills the quiet of his bedroom.

"Babe, wake up."

Her throat sticks dryly as she tries to answer him, the words scratching their way out into the darkness, "m'tired..."

She hears him sigh but to her relief the assault stops, the space beside her dipping as his weight leaves the mattress. She wants to ask where he's going but falters, her head swimming with effort and she's just about to drift off again when he appears, turning on the light by her side of the bed. She flinches at the brightness, burying her head beneath her arm in an attempt to avoid it.

He crouches down next to her locking his jaw with tight concern. She wasn't feeling well yesterday, insisting she could sleep it off, but she's only getting worse and he grips the glass in his hand nudging her again. "Donna, you've got a fever."

The persistence is frustrating and she cracks an eye open, finding her voice with a croak, "you woke me... to tell me I'm sick?"

"I woke you because you're sweating through the bed sheets-" he counters, bringing the water up to her lips, "here, you need to stay hydrated."

The drink makes her feel nauseous but it's followed by a cool compress at her forehead that soothes the churn in her stomach. It's relaxing for all of two seconds before it sends a chill racing down her back and she feels blindly for the blanket, shivering as he catches her wrist, "_c_.._cold._"

He feels guilty for having removed the comforter but she's burning up and the most he can offer her is the flimsy sheet, tugging it to her shoulders. The trembling subsides to an erratic hitch and he removes the damp cloth sliding his hand up to check her temperature. Even in her semi-there state she burrows against his palm and his mouth edges up, his fingers pushing the damp hair back from her face. He should have made her go to the doctor but the argument was over before it started, her pointing out that he wouldn't go and leaving him unable to defend his own stubbornness.

Sometimes he thinks she should be the one with the law degree.

He let's his hand drop and swears he hears her mummer the word 'stay', his chest constricting at whatever thoughts drew out the plea. If she was more coherent she'd know there isn't anything that could drag him away from her right now and sets the cloth back over her forehead, standing to round the bed and climb in behind her. He settles his thumb against her waist, just so she knows he's there, but she doesn't stir again. Not until sunlight starts bleeding into the room signalling it's morning and he watches her turn, still pale but seemingly more aware as her eyes blink open.

"Hi."

"_Hey_..." his hand flutters up, checking to make sure her fever hasn't returned. It broke a couple of hours ago and he's relieved to find her cool under his touch. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She tries to smile but worry curbs the attempt as her gaze washes over him. He looks utterly exhausted, maybe even worse that she does, and she entwines his fingers with her own pulling them down the rest against the pillow. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

He didn't. He'd wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't get any worse, but he's quick to shrug off the concern. "I'm fine."

It's not what she asked and a sigh hums in her throat, his tired eyes urging her to wriggle closer. She wasn't lying. She does feel better but neither of them are in any fit state to go into the office and she smooths her free hand against the stubble lining his jaw. "I'll call Louis, we're both taking the day."

He thinks about arguing... telling her at least one of them should be there but she'd no doubt reason a way for it to be her, so he abandons the thought completely. She needs the rest and he reluctantly rolls over in search of his phone.

When he shifts back she takes it out of his grasp and by the time she has Louis caught up his light snoring is already filling the room. It makes her smile as she settles down next to him. She might be stubborn but he is too and if that means they care about each other; it can only be a good thing.


	5. V

V.

His mind is a whirlwind of chaos as he steps inside the condo, Donna's silence fueling the adrenaline cursing through him as she closes the door. He needs a stiff drink, something to take the edge off and he takes a step- pulled back before he can process it, a harsh slap reverberating up the side of his face.

He blinks at her, not sure what to say as her angry words spill out.

"You goddamn, _stubborn_, selfish idiot. What the hell were you thinking!?"

He swallows sharply, the fiery tingle across his cheek burning as he stands staring in what's probably still a state of shock. He did _think, c_ontrary to the accusations she's throwing about. He'd weighed up his options against a literal gun in the courtroom and had reacted, doing what any lawyer with his skills and pay grade would; he'd negotiated. "Donna-"

"Do not _Donna_ me." She storms passed him, fighting the mess of emotions that have been building since he'd actively chosen to remain in danger. He could have walked out, left when the other hostages had been released, but he'd stayed and for what? To defend a man who he was convinced had committed a murder. "You said it yourself, he was guilty."

"That doesn't mean he deserved to be publicly executed." The reasoning falls from his mouth as he follows her into the kitchen. He wasn't going to stand by and let the verdict come down to revenge, not when he had the power to stop it.

"And what about _me_? What about what _I_ deserve-" she throws out bitterly, collecting her palms over the counter to keep from shaking. He could have been killed all because of his goddamn moral code and she closes her eyes, her anger deflating just as quickly as it had risen replaced by a swell of moisture behind her gaze. "We could have lost you."

There's something about the ways she says 'we' that makes him stop and take pause. She could be meaning their friends but he's pissed her off plenty of times over the years and she's never once lashed out like she just did. She's usually the rational one and his heart stammers in his chest, his feet slipping closer toward her. "We?" He swallows the insinuation, watching a small smile crest through her tears as she turns her head with a nod.

"I found out this morning..." she swipes at the wetness covering her cheeks, "I'm pregnant."

The words him everywhere all at once and a warmth spreads through his chest, driving his arms around her. They're going to be a family, he's going to be a father and he squeezes her more tightly, realizing what his actions today could have cost them. "Donna, I'm so sorry."

She can hear it in his voice, the regret tangled with happiness, and the softness wraps around comforting her in a way only he knows how to. She'd been so afraid of losing him she'd reacted without thinking and when he finally breaks his hold she offers her own gentle apology. "I'm sorry I slapped you."

He could care less about that the now, his mouth widening into a grin as his fingers skim down stopping to rest at her stomach. They're going to spend a life time worrying about each other because they're committed to forever and now they're bringing a third person onto the mix.

He's going to be gray before he's fifty but it's going to be worth every second.

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**AN: The end, I hope you enjoyed! :)**


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